


Stuck in the Headlights

by enochiancass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Homophobia, John Winchester is an asshole, M/M, Raphael is also an asshole, Suicidal Castiel, ace!cas, asexual!Cas, general sadness, sam winchester/jessica moore - Freeform, there are a lot of assholes, there will be lots of fluff and then lots of angst, tutor!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enochiancass/pseuds/enochiancass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has moved around his entire life, never really allowing himself to get emotionally invested in anything. When his Dad moves their family to Kansas, he starts to settle in surprisingly quick and befriends a boy named Castiel who has the bluest eyes he's ever seen. As their friendship blossoms into something more, Dean wonders if it's too good to be true because as he's often found out, good things don't last forever.</p><p>- INDEFINITE HIATUS -</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Friday, February 3, 2010; Kripke High School, Rm. 174; 2:00pm**

Dean’s leg bounced up and down in anticipation as he stared, utterly bored, up at the clock above the whiteboard. It was his last class on his first day of school and he was already done with it. Now, when he says ‘first day of school,’ he really means first day of this school. It was well into January when Dean’s life in Arizona had been uprooted and moved to the small town of Lawrence, Kansas.

Of course there wasn’t much of a life to uproot. His Dad had been dragging him and Sammy across the country since Dean’s mom had died in a house fire when Dean was four. His father, apparently, had something against making an honest living, so staying in one place wasn’t exactly an option. Arizona had been different though. It was the longest they’d ever stayed in one place and Dean had actually started to let himself make friends. Big mistake. Of course, when John had broke the news that they were packing up and moving once again, Dean had protested. Bigger mistake. He still had the bruises to show for it.

So now here he was, Lawrence Kansas, Mr. Shurley’s 6th period english class, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep until graduation.

Finally, the sharp noise of the school bell rang out and Dean let out a relieved sigh. Finally he could go home and pass out. Maybe sneak a few of dad’s beers. Not necessarily in that order.

“Excuse me, Mr. Winchester could you hang back for a moment.”

Or not. Dean spun around and trudged back over to Mr. Shurley’s desk. He was a short dude, maybe 5'7" against Dean’s 5'11". He had a face full of scruff and sported a light blue sweater vest.

“What’s up,” Dean asked, eager to get out of there.

“Well, since you’ve arrived pretty late into the school year, I’ve decided it might be best to assign you a tutor. They would work with you during this period until you’re caught up and ready join the class.”

Great. The last thing he needed was to have to spend an hour everyday with some know-it-all when he could be using the time to catch up on his sleep.

“Look,” Dean started, “I honestly don’t care whether or not I end up graduating, let alone passing this class, so I think I’ll pass on the tutor.”

“Yah.. It’s not optional,” Mr. Shurley replied and Dean swore he saw an amused smirk dance across his teachers face. “Dean, you have a lot of potential. I looked over your file and I feel that if you hadn’t been moved around so much, you’d be near the top of your class. You’re smart, Dean, you’re just not applied.”

Dean could feel rage coiling in the pit of his stomach. Mr. Shurley was just the most recent in a string of teacher’s that thought they knew him. Thought they knew what was best for him. Dean let out a snort. “Well if you know so goddamn much about my life why don’t you write yourself a damned book.”

Dean stormed out of the room before he could see the look of pity he knew would be on the teacher’s face. It was always the same, the do-good teacher who though they could fix Dean, that all he needed was a little shove in the right direction. He didn’t understand what they saw in him anyways. Sammy had always been the smart one; the one with the bright future. Not Dean.

By the time he’d reached his locker, the halls were empty. Sam, being the nerd that he was, had already joined the mathletes, and so Dean would have to wait around for their thirty minute meeting to end. He wandered aimlessly through the halls, enjoying the silence when he heard a shout. He stopped in his tracks, trying to figure out where the call had come from. He heard a pained grunt and faint mumbling coming from around the corner and he hurried to inspect.

At the far end of the hallway, Dean made out two figures towering over a small, third figure. He felt his face flush with anger as he realized the two larger figures were wailing their fists in to the third figure’s stomach.

“Hey!” Dean called out, making the two assailants freeze and turn their heads. “What do you think you’re doing?”

When they see Dean, they visibly relax which sort of amuses Dean. The one on the left, who Dean recognizes as Victor from his biology class, sniggers.

“We’re giving this cocksucker a good beating is what we’re doing.”

Before he can stop himself, Dean’s fist flies forward, connecting painfully with Viktor’s face. He pulls back in shock, hand flying to his nose and coming away an alarming shade of crimson.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it now Winchester,” he sneered.

“Bring it.”

Dean started forward but was jerked back by Viktor’s buddy by the hem of his shirt, causing him to loose balance. Taking advantage, Viktor gave him a solid hit to the side of the jaw. It hurt, but Dean’s had way worse. He twisted out of the jackasses’ hold and dodged a second punch from Viktor, kicking in the back of his knee and sending him to the floor. He gave him a good few kicks in the stomach before turning to take care of the other a-hole but was cut short when he saw the other boy cut him clean in the nose. Dean laughed at the shock that painted itself across the dick’s face.

“Big mistake, Winchester. You better watch your back,”

“Yeah alright, asshat.” Dean huffed a laugh as Viktor and his buddy hurried down the hallway and turned the corner. As soon as they were out of sight, Dean could see the other boy visibly relax, letting out a long sigh.

“You alright?”

The boy just looked over at Dean, his eyes squinted and his head tilted inquisitively. It’s not until then that Dean realizes how pretty the guy is. He’s got a slender, slightly scrawny build, and a mop of dark brown sex hair. Though, that could be attributed to him getting his ass kicked. On top of that, he’s got the bluest eyes Dean has ever seen. Dean definitely wouldn’t mind waking up to eyes like that.

“I’ve never seen you before,” The boy answers, and Dean could tell it was more of a question than a statement.

“Just moved to town,” Dean says, “today’s my first day.” the boy nods. “Dean Winchester, by the way.” He continues with a small smile, “and you are?”

“Castiel.”

Dean’s raises an eyebrow, “helluva name. Not sure I’ve heard that one before.”

“My family is quite religious, my siblings and I were all named after angels,” Castiel explained. He watches as Cas goes to take a step and reaches out to catch him when he stumbles.

“Come with me, you need fixed up.” Dean says, gently pulling Cas behind him as he makes his way to the front of the school. They walk in a comfortable silence through the parking lot and stop in front of Dean’s baby. Technically, it was his dad’s car but he’s the one who used it on a daily basis, and the one who fixes her up when she needs it.

He sat Cas down in the passenger seat of the impala and went to grab his first aid kit out of the trunk. He brought it back around and opened it up on the roof of the car. He figured he should start with the few small cuts that littered Castiel’s face.

“Okay, now this may sting a little,” Dean warned as he soaked a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide. Castiel just nodded, his face determined.

Dean brought his left hand up to cup Castiel’s cheek as he used the other hand to clean the cuts, starting with the most serious one, running down the bridge of his nose.

Cas gasped at the touch of the hydrogen peroxide and flinches backwards slightly. Dean rubs his thumb soothingly over his cheekbone and he feels a renewed sense of anger at the dicks who did this.

“I’m sorry these asshats did this to you, Cas. What was their beef with you anyway?” Dean turned to pull out a small bandage for Castiel’s nose while he waited for an answer but when he turned back, Castiel was staring up at him curiously.

“What, do I have something in my teeth?” He jokes.

“You called me Cas.” He states plainly.

Dean thought back and yah, he guessed he did. “I’m sorry man I didn’t mean- I mean if you don’t like that I-”

“No it’s fine,” Cas interrupted. “I like it.”

Dean felt fondness spread through him and he gave Castiel a small smile. He continued patching up his face, and after a good ten minutes, he was just about finished up.

“Alright, that should be good,” Dean said, packing up his first aid kit. Castiel smiled gratefully and stood up out of the impala, wincing and grabbing his side as he stumbled slightly.

“Wow, easy there,” Dean exclaimed as he put his hands on Castiel’s shoulders to steady him. “Can I take a look?” He asks, pointing a finger at Cas’ stomach. Castiel nods, a pained expression barely visible on his face.

Dean steered Castiel over to lean against the side of the Impala. He took his hands off of Cas’ shoulder’s and slowly lifted Cas’ shirt up and hissed sympathetically when he saw the already reddening flesh.

“I just need to make sure none of your ribs are fractured okay? This will probably hurt a little.”

Cas nodded again and Dean could tell he was putting on a brave face as he began poking at the other boys’ ribs. He moved up Castiel’s chest, checking each rib for swelling or any spots that elicited too much pain. Dean ignored the blush that settled against his cheeks when he felt Cas’ stare bore into him. When he was satisfied, he pulled Castiel’s shirt back down and smiled.

“You’re gonna be okay. No fractures or anything but the bruises are gonna be around for a while.”

“Thanks,” Cas cleared his throat, “for- um - well everything. For helping me out and, uh, cleaning me up and stuff.” When Cas had finished, he was blushing softly and staring down at his feet. Dean’s heart fluttered.

“Hey, Cas, can I ask you something?”

Cas looked up, surprised. “Um, yeah sure.”

“Why were those dicks beating you up anyways? I mean what could you have possibly done to them, you’re like, a really cool dude, and, no offense, not very physically threatening.”

Cas blushes and his gaze flitters back down to his feet. “Well, um, I guess you could say they do not particularly agree with my lifestyle.”

Dean looked at Castiel confusedly. “What do you mean your lifestyle, Cas y-” Dean’s face lit up with realization. “You mean because you’re gay?”

Castiel’s blush deepened and an anxious look fluttered in his eyes. He realized Cas was probably scared that Dean was like the rest of the assholes who wouldn’t look past sexual orientation.

“Not- uh, not that I’m judging or anything. I - I mean I’m gay too. Well, actually I’m bisexual but um, yah.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he looked around awkwardly.

Cas broke into a grin, relief painted obviously on his face. “Well, technically I’m not gay either. The correct term is pansexual.”

Dean turned his head when he heard footsteps to see Sam approaching them. He smiled brightly at Dean and momentarily stopped in his tracks when he saw Cas.

“Um, hi.” Sam said, throwing a questioning look at Dean. “I’m- um, I’m Sam. I’m Dean’s brother.”

“My name is Castiel.”

Sam tipped his head in curiosity. “Like the angel of thursday?”

Cas smiled warmly at Sam and nodded. “Not many people recognize the origin of my name.”

Sam just shrugs. “I read a lot.”

“Alright,” Dean says, “So um, listen, Cas, me and Sammy better get going… Our dad’s probably expecting us home soon.”

“Yes of course, Dean.”

Dean nods. “I’ll see you at school, Cas.”

They both have wide grins spread across their face. After what could’ve been anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes of awkwardly intense staring, Sam cleared his throat.

Dean coughed awkwardly and averted his gaze from Cas.

“I will see you later, Dean.” Cas said. “And, um… thanks for your assistance.”

Dean gave Cas a pat on the shoulder and him and Sam climbed into the Impala.

“So… he was cute,” Sam said with a teasing smirk.

“Shut up… Bitch,” Dean said, huffing a laugh.

“Jerk.”


	2. Inevitability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's good with the ladies; Dean meets his tutor; Dean and Sam have a nice family meal with their father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is kinda late. I just started school recently and I've been slightly overwhelmed by it! I'll definitely try to start updating faster though. Enjoy :))

**Monday, February 6, 2010; Kripke High School, Cafeteria; 12:05pm**

Dean dropped his tray onto the cafeteria table across from Sam, falling into his seat with annoyance and exasperation. He paid no attention to Sam as he began pushing his mashed potatoes around his plate angrily.

“Dean?”

Dean made an uncommitted grunt in answer, scooping up a spoonful of the mashed potatoes and shoving it into his mouth. 

“Dean, what’s up?” Dean looked up to see concern plastered on Sam’s face and sighed. Why did he ever expect to have a nice quiet lunch. 

“Just some dickbag in my last class it’s nothing, Sammy.” 

Dean ran a hand through his hair and absentmindedly shoved another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“It doesn’t look like nothing, Dean.”

Dean sighed. He knew Sam would just keep asking until he was forced to spill his heart out. “It’s the guy who beat up, Cas,” he explained. “He’s in my class and he’s a dick.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Sam said, looking up to Dean with his damned puppy dog eyes. He sighed.

“Sam, come on, no chick flick moments.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to sigh. He looked a little hurt but then again he always does when Dean refuses to talk to him. It made him feel kinda guilty but Sam was a big kid, he could take care of himself. 

Besides there wasn’t really all that much to talk about. Viktor hadn’t done anything too extremely deuchey, Dean just really didn’t like the guy. Viktor sat one row over and one row behind of Dean in Biology, next to his friend Alastair. Basically, he had to sit there all class and listen to them talk about all the nasty things they wanna do to some chick named Lisa Braeden. Let’s just say these things didn’t include taking her on a picnic. 

At the end of class, Dean was putting his books away when Victor had come up to him and asked, “Hey, how’s your boyfriend doing.” 

It had taken all of Dean’s self control not to hit him right there. 

So, Dean told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine before storming off to the cafeteria.

Dean hates bullies. He hates people who find pleasure in picking on the weak. He hates people who think they’re strong, or deserve respect because they can beat you up. 

He sighs, picking up a chicken nugget and shoving it into his mouth. He looked up at Sammy to ask him how his day has been but he’s spaced out, staring at another table in the middle of the room. He followed his brother’s gaze all the way to a cute blonde sitting with two brunettes. He chuckled.

“Well, Sammy, she’s a looker,” He says with a smirk.

Sam spins his head to look at Dean, a blush creeping up his face and settling along his cheeks. 

“Shut up.”

“Aww come on, Sammy,” he pushed, “what’s her name?”

“Jessica,” he murmured, his face flushed bright pink.

“I’m sorry,” Dean teased, “what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Sam pouted at him.

“Hey come on, Sammy, I’m just messing with you.” He said, reaching across the table to ruffle Sam’s hair. 

“Deaaaaan, stop it we’re in public,” Sam whined, trying his best to fend Dean off. 

Dean laughed and stopped his assault. Sam was attempting to fix his hair when a girl with long brown hair walk up to their table, tapping Sam on the shoulder. 

Sam looked up through his hair. It was one of the two brunettes that had been sitting with Jessica. She had high cheekbones and brown eyes and something about her just threw Dean off. He threw a glance over to Jessica’s table and saw the young blonde giggling nervously as she glance over at Sam, a light pink blush dusted over her cheeks. Dean smiled. He was glad his brother was able to settle in. Sammy always had been the one to make friends whereas Dean had always found it easier to avoid getting emotionally invested in whatever school they happened to be at. It always made it easier when they moved on. 

“Oh, um, hi Ruby,” he said, questioningly.

“Jess wanted me to give you this.”

Ruby slid a piece of paper across the table and Sam’s blush got impossibly darker. 

“Um, thanks,” Sam mumbled still looking at the paper. 

“Uh huh.” Ruby smirked amusedly and wandered back over to her table. 

Dean gave Sam a light punch in the shoulder. “Look at that,” he said, wiping away a fake tear, “my Sammy-boy is all grown up.”

“Shut up.”

That’s when the bell rang and and people started filing out of the cafeteria and heading to the next class. 

“Okay Sammy I’ll see you after school.”

“Okay, Dean.” 

Dean ruffled Sam’s hair one last time, huffing a laugh at Sam’s shout of protest before slinging his backpack onto his shoulder and heading to class. He drifted through the halls, towards his locker, still upset about the events earlier that day. 

When he rounds the corner, he collided with something short and red, sending papers and books everywhere. Dean rubbed his chin which had collided with the other person’s head before looking up to see a red-haired girl sprawled on the floor. She was dressed in combat boots and a cargo jacket with black headphones slung around her neck. She had defined facial features and her skin was reminiscent of Snow White. Not that Dean watched disney movies. 

“Shit. Sorry!” 

Dean rushed to help her up before bending down to collect the maelstrom of supplies. He was impressed to find her Advanced Computer Science and Calc I textbooks. Dean was almost certain the school Didn’t even offer Advanced Computer Science, so she must take the class on her own time. Cute and smart, he thought. If he wasn’t so against making friends he probably would have asked her out. Dean stood back up, handing over her books and rubbing his neck sheepishly. 

“Sorry, I- um, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

The red-haired girl smiled at him understandingly, securing some of the lose papers into the green messenger bag hanging from her shoulder.

“That’s okay,” she said warmly, “I wasn’t particularly paying attention either.” 

She reaches up to tuck her firetruck hair behind her ear.

“I’m Charlie.” She extended her hand and Dean took it, smiling down at her. 

“Dean,” he offered, “Dean Winchester.”

“Nice to meet you Dean.” She looks down at her watch and straightens her books. “I better get to class,” she explains, “see you around?”

“Yeah I’ll see ya.” Dean gives a small wave as she walks away and proceeds to check his own watch, swearing silently as he realizes he will most definitely be late to class. 

He headed quickly down the hallway and sighed when the late bell finally did ring. He picked up his pace and slunk down the last stretch of the hallway, sliding gracefully through the classroom door. 

“Dean… Nice of you to join us,” Mr. Shurley stated in a displeased manner. Dean stood awkwardly at the front of the room, glancing around at the eighteen faces that all stared back at him. 

“Your tutor is waiting for you in the lab, try to get some work done.”

Shit. Dean had totally forgot he was being forced to spend the hour with some nerd who thought he was better than him. Dean sighs with exasperation, nodding, and Mr. Shurley turn back to the class. 

“Alright, get out your books and turn to page 47,” Mr. Shurley told the class as Dean headed out the door and back into the hallway. 

The lab was only three doors down from Mr. Shurley’s classroom. Dean approached the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he considered just bailing and maybe going for a drive in the Impala. He sighed. As good as that sounded, he knew how upset Dad would get and that really wasn’t something he wanted to deal with. Atleast not when he was still sore in the stomach from last time. 

He turned the handle and prayed that his tutor was atleast cute as he swung the door open. Pleasantly surprised emerald eyes met startling blue one’s as Dean’s face flooded with recognition. 

“Hey, Cas.”

Castiel smiled up at Dean, obvious relief showing on his face. 

“So, you are the student who requires my assistance?” He asked rhetorically, “I was nervous you were going to be one of the homophobic assbutts that enjoy stuffing me into lockers.”

“Nope. Just me.” He cocked his head, “If you’re so worried you’ll get stuck with one of those dicks why be a tutor at all?”

He walked over and dropped his backpack onto the table, slouching into the chair next to Castiel as the dark-haired boy replied.

“It is beneficial when applying to colleges. My uncle has advised me that I should partake in extracurricular activities and this is the only thing that held any appeal.”

“Well doesn’t this school have like a chess club or something?” Dean asked.

Castiel smirked, “This school is horrifically underfunded; and the funds we do receive tend to go towards text books or new football jerseys. The only clubs we really have on campus are student council and the mathletes.”

“What about the mathletes? That seems like your type of thing.”

Castiel’s smirk deepened into a frown. “Long story short I doubt I would be welcome.”

“Why is that?”

“Everyone at this school is aware of my sexual orientation and very few are accepting of it. Unfortunately, the teacher who sponsors the mathletes is not one of those few.” 

“Mr. Adler? He gave you shit?”

Cas just shrugged.

“Fuck. Cas if anyone ever tries to hurt you, and I mean ever, you call me and I will beat their ass you understand me?”

Cas looked up at Dean, a slightly confused.

“Why do you care so much?”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “Because, Cas, you’re my friend.”

Cas’ face brightened and he smiled up at Dean. Dean smiled back and they held each other’s gaze for longer than was probably necessary before Dean gave a small smile and averted his gaze.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “what are we learning today, teach?”

~~

**Monday, February 6, 2010; Winchester household, 4:07pm**

Dean layed on his bed, headphones on, blasting Led Zeppelin as he stared up at the ceiling. He had an essay he probably should be writing but he just couldn’t concentrate. He had too much to think about. He’d only been in Lawrence for a week or so and he was already starting to like it here. It was weird, and scary and Dean knew it was gonna end up blowing up in his face. Things usually did. 

Dean perked a little and took his headphones off when the smell of dinner cooking drifted in from the kitchen. Sam must be cooking tonight because he could hear the oven timer going off and Dad usually opted for fast food. Dean climbed out of bed and headed downstairs, humming when the smell of chocolate chip cookies reached his nose. 

“Hey, Sammy,” he said as he tumbled down the last of the stairs. He immediately spotted the cookies laying out on the counter and headed over, picking up the biggest one and receiving a slap on the hand from his brother.

“Those aren’t for you Dean,” Sam scolded, “they’re for my Home Ec. Class.”

“Home ec.?” He laughed, “since when are you in that class?”

Sam sighed, “Ever since I transferred out of gym.”

“Right. And for what reason would you transfer from gym to Home ec? Are you asking to get shoved into lockers?” Dean questioned. When Sam blushed, he pretty much confirmed Dean’s suspicions. “So you’re there for the ladies?” He added with a dramatic wiggling of his eyebrows.

“No.”

Dean smirked playfully. “So what’s-her-name isn’t in that class? Jessica?”

Sam’s blush deepened and he threw a dishrag at Dean. Dean laughed and caught the rag, sending it right back into Sam’s face.

“That’s what I thought. So, when are you gonna ask her out?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Well when are you gonna ask Castiel out?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up incredulously. “I- uh. I mean- why would I- who says I like Cas?”

Sam just stood with his hand on his hips, one eyebrow raised at Dean. 

“Shut up.”

Sam smirked as he moved to get the paper plates, handing them to Dean before opening a drawer next to the sink to pull out a pair of oven mitts. Dean made himself busy clearing off the kitchen table while Sam pulled the lasagna out of the oven, setting it on the stovetop. 

Dean was lost in thought. Was his crush on Cas that obvious? I mean he’d only known the kid for a week. Not even. Really not even long enough to have developed a crush but hey, sue him. It was those damned bluer than blue eyes. And that smile that lit up a goddamned room. And that dark-brown mop of sex hair. And shit, that kid was really smart. Dean sighed, bringing himself back to reality as Sam carried the lasagna over to the table. 

“I’ll go get Dad up, you can get silverware and napkins or whatever.” Sam said with a wave of his arms. Dean nodded and Sam walked away down the hallway. 

If Dean liked one thing about this house, it was that their Dad’s room was downstairs while him and Sammy were upstairs. It provided a buffer between them and Dad’s drunken whatever he does. At previous houses, when all their rooms were grouped together, it wasn’t uncommon for Dad to bust into his room late at night and yell at him for Mom’s death, and how it was his fault. On his Dad’s worst nights, Dean had stayed up all night, listening, making sure his drunken father never tried doing any of his shit to Sammy. 

Dean finished up setting the table and wandered over to the sink to wash up. When he turned around to dry his hands, Sam and his dad were coming down the hallway. Dean let out a disgruntled sigh at his obviously drunken father. It wasn’t even 4:30 in the afternoon and he could smell the alcohol on his breath from across the room. 

They all took a seat at the table, his dad immediately cracking open a beer that he seemingly drew from thin air. Dean poured him and Sam some water and he poured one for his dad, sliding over to him, even though he knew his dad wouldn’t even touch it.

The first few minutes of dinner passed in an uncomfortable silence. Dean could see Sam stealing small glances at their father, his face full of worry. Their father, though, seemed completely oblivious to the fact that there was even anyone else at the table. He just sat, pushing lasagna around his plate and taking the occasional sip of beer. Dean cleared his throat. 

“So Sam tested into honors biology,” Dean informed his dad, attempting to get some sort of conversation going without provoking anger. Usually the best way to avoid his dad’s anger was to avoid talking about himself. Dean had accepted ages ago that he was a disappointment. His father seemed to show genuine interest in Sam though and Dean could see why. He was growing up to a smart little dude and Dean couldn’t be more proud.

“Good job son,” grumbled John and Sam beamed. “It’s good to know atleast one of my sons is gonna make it into college.”

At that quip, Dean’s stomach dropped and he could see Sam’s conflicted face out of the corner of his eye. He knew Sam wanted to say something in Dean’s defense but they both knew that would be a bad idea. 

“So, Sam, why don’t you tell Dad about Jessica?” He asked in an attempt to cool his brother down. Sam blushed and he sighed inwardly. Conversations with his dad were like defusing a bomb. A drunk, abusive bomb. 

Their father’s interest seemed to have been piqued and he looked expectantly at Sam who was blushing downward at his plate.

“Well come on boy,” their dad laughed, “spill the beans! Does my little boy got his eye on someone?”

Sam looked up shyly. “Yeah um, she’s in my English class and uh, my Home ec. Class,” he murmured. 

“That’s my boy.”

Sam’s mouth hooked up in a smile at his dad’s praise. Then, his face brightened and he said, “Dean’s made a friend too.”

Dean looked at his father wearily, but was met with a look of interest.

“Oh really?” His father asked. “It’s good to see you settling in.”

“Yah,” Sam responded, “Dean scared off some guys who were trying to beat Castiel up.” 

His father narrowed his eyes with concern. “Castiel Novak?”

Dean’s stomach dropped. That’s the face his father made when Dean did something he found upsetting. He didn’t know where this was going but he knew it wasn’t good. 

“Yeah, do you meet his family?” Sam asked, unaware of the sudden tension in his father’s face. 

“No but I’ve heard stories. My buddy Walker told me his son, Gordon, said he was gay.”

“And so what if he is!” Dean exclaimed. “He’s a person and he’s a good friend.” 

Dean knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to get mad at his father but he couldn’t help it. He was tired of his dad’s shit. 

“Son, he’s a faggot.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

Dean just stared at his father. He could see the anger in his father’s eyes and feel anger of his own pooling in his stomach and he knew by the end of the night he’d probably have a few more bruises. 

“Sammy go to your room.” Dean voice was strained through his clenched jaw.

Sam’s eyes were wide as he quietly stood up from the table and slid upstairs. By the time Sam’s door clicked shut, John Winchester was stood up and walking around the edge of the table towards where Dean just sat, waiting for the inevitable.


	3. Cleaning up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy so it's been quite a while since I've updated which I deeply apologize for but I've had an insane amount of work on my plate :-//  
> Please enjoy this chapter though even if it is a bit short!!
> 
> Thankyou everyone for the Kudos/Comments/Bookmarks n stuff

Chapter 3

Monday, February 6, 2010; Winchester household; 10:34pm

Sam slunk down the stairs, peering around the corner and rushing quietly to Dean's side. Dean laid on the floor, hands covering his head and unconscious. Sam shook him by the shoulder.

"Dean!" Sam whispered loudly in Dean's ear. "Dean, wake up!"

Dean groaned as he rolled over onto his back and Sam hissed out a breath when he saw Dean's face. He had a split lip that had swollen to about twice its size and the beginnings of a black eye. 

"Sam?" He mumbled, barely audible.

"Yeah Dean, come on let's get you upstairs," Sam replied, helping Dean sit up.

Sam supported Dean's weight and they stumbled up the stairs together, spilling into Sam's room. He laid Dean down onto the middle of the bed, his legs hanging down off of the side.

"I'll be right back," Sam whispered, and he turned around, quickly stepping through the door as Dean moaned inaudibly in reply.

Sam padded quietly down the stairs, now aware of where his father may be. The faint sound of snoring could be heard, floating down the hallway from where their father's bedroom was and Sam let out a relieved sigh. Dean's keys were sitting on the counter, reflecting the soft light of the moon and Sam snatched them up as he headed to the front door. He turned the lock and opened the door slowly, wincing when it made a shrill squeaking that seemed to echo across the entire house. Sam paused. The snoring was still audible and the younger brother realized his father had most likely passed out. 

Sam slipped through the door and into the crisp, late evening air. He exhaled and his breath danced through the air as he made his way over to the impala, opening the passenger side door and retrieving the first aid kit from the glove box. He locked Dean's baby back up and ran back to the house, shutting the door behind him and taking the stairs by two. 

He gently opened his bedroom door, peeking in to see an empty bed. Sam panicked before he heard the bathroom door open slowly behind him and he turned around to Dean leaning against the doorframe. 

"Hey, Sammy," he greeted, obviously in pain. 

"Hey Dean, I'm gonna get you fixed up okay?" Sam replied. He received a mumbled confirmation as he set the first aid kit onto the bed, opening it up to search through its contents. 

Sam retrieved the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and one of the three cotton balls from the box. He quickly unscrewed the white lid from the bottle, holding the cotton ball above the lip and tipping the bottle over. Once he'd gotten some onto the cotton ball he tilted Dean's chin back and inspected his lip. It was split down the middle and blood was still slowly oozing from the cut. 

"Okay this may sting," Sam warned before gently dabbing the cotton ball across the wound. Dean made a faint whining sound but didn't protest so Sam continued until all of the blood had been cleaned from his brother's face. 

He selected a butterfly bandage from the first aid kit and pressed it onto a particularly nasty cut that ran along Dean's forehead. After checking for any signs of bleeding anywhere else, Sam zipped up the kit and set it to the side. 

"Okay Dean I need to check to make sure there's no internal injuries," Sam stated.

Dean acknowledged this with a grunt and sat up, pulling his shirt up to his shoulders, exposing his angry red stomach. Sam hissed.

"Dean...," Sam said worriedly, his eyebrows bunched up in concern. "This is the worst I've seen it."

"M'fine Smmy"

"Atleast let me check for broken ribs"

Dean nodded and Sam began poking his fingers into each rib, eliciting the occasional yelp from his brother. Dean remembered just the other day when it had been Dean checking Cas' ribs.

"Okay," Sam said. "You'll be okay nothings broken. Im sure somethings definitely bruised but you'll be fine."

"Thanks Sammy," Dean mumbled tiredly, putting his shirt back on and laying in bed. Sam smiled fondly and climbed into bed next to his brother, carefully snuggling into his bruised stomach. 

"Hey, Dean," Sam whispered.

"Yeah, Sammy." 

"When is he gonna stop."

Dean sighed and Sam felt it on the back of his neck. 

"It'll stop when I'm not around anymore to take it."

"When is that."

Dean layed silently for a few moments.

"I turn 18 in five months. In five months I promise, I'll move out and I'll take you with me. We'll find a crappy apartment and I'll get a crappy job and we can live our crappy lives in peace."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Sam turned around and gave his brother a gentile hug, paying mind to his still fresh bruises. He rested his head on his brother's chest and prayed that the next five months get by without too much trouble. He prayed, and he hoped, and he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
